


Neighbors

by starryeyedchar



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Neighbors, Sick Lance (Voltron), Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:40:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryeyedchar/pseuds/starryeyedchar
Summary: Lance stood in front of him, but it was a Lance he'd never seen before. Granted, Keith didn't know him well by any means, but he was positive that the regular Lance would be leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, maybe a couple finger-guns. Not this.This Lance had wrapped himself in a blanket, and was still shivering slightly. His skin was much paler than usual, with flushed cheeks and sweat on his brow. He sniffled.“Um.”Or the one where Keith and Lance live in apartments next to each other, and Lance is too sick for Keith to just leave him by himself.





	Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a prompt on my tumblr!!! I hope you enjoy reading it here.

Lance _hated_ being sick.

Not that he'd ever admit that he was, but he despised it all the same. It wasn't even the symptoms that bothered him the most, even though those sucked. It was the feeling of not being able to _do_ anything. There was nothing Lance hated more than being useless.

Still, despite his protests, Hunk had decided that Lance couldn't possibly go into work that day. The guy was usually a big pushover, except when it came to his friends' health. Then all bets were off.

Lance huffed a sigh, collapsing into bed. He would've much preferred getting stuff done than staying cooped up inside the apartment all day. Deep down, though, he knew that it was pretty bad. He'd been doing a good job hiding the illness from Hunk the past few days, but that morning it'd been so obvious that even Lance's best acting couldn't keep his best friend and roommate from noticing.

He knew it was for the best. Hell, everything Hunk did usually was. With Lance's horrible migraine combined with a fever and completely non-functioning sinuses, it was a wonder he'd been able to get away with it _this_ long.

Hunk promised to bring back some medicine, and make soup when he got back from work. He'd also advised Lance to rest, and stay hydrated, which would hopefully help some.

Reluctant as he was, even Lance had to admit that whatever he had wasn't going anywhere for a while, and he wouldn't get anything done while awake. So, he buried himself under what was probably way too many blankets, and tried to get some sleep.

He was out cold almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Keith _hated_ his next-door neighbor.

Well, no, not actually. In fact, he barely knew anything about the guy other than his name (Lance), his appearance (hot to the point that it was almost unfair), and the fact that he liked to sing numbers from Broadway musicals at the top of his lungs when he was home alone.

Keith only knew this last fact because their bedrooms shared a wall. A much, much too thin wall, if you asked him. From what he'd gathered of Lance, he was a pretty obnoxious guy. This information was almost entirely from the things Keith heard on the other side of the wall, as they'd only spoken face to face a handful of times. Regardless, he was definitely not the kind of person you wanted to share a wall with. Keith had no idea how Lance's roommate, Hunk, put up with the guy.

Said wall was the reason for Keith's current hatred of Lance. Coming from the other side of the wall were a series of moans and groans that... didn't leave much to the imagination. 

And okay, maybe this wasn't the _first_ time Keith had heard something along those lines going on. But it was definitely the loudest.

Hunk wasn't home, but he couldn't hear anyone else with Lance, which meant he was alone. He'd stayed home from work to do _this_?

Keith groaned, covering his ears with a pillow. He'd be listening to music right about now, if his headphones weren't broken.

The pillow didn't help much.

Keith threw it across the room. He'd had enough.

He banged his hand against the wall several times. “Lance?” he shouted. “Would you mind keeping it down over there? Some of us would like some peace and quiet.”

The typical response to one of Keith's complaints was some witty comeback yelled just as loudly, but Lance usually listened to him anyway. This time, however, there was no response other than the sounds continuing.

Keith cursed under his breath before trying again. " _Lance_! Kindly shut the fuck up!"

Still nothing.

He was more than a little angry now. Lance was blatantly ignoring him. This called for more drastic measures. Keith kicked off his own blankets and stormed out of his apartment without even putting a pair of socks on. If Lance wasn't going to be civil, why should he?

Keith pounded his fist on the door multiple times, paused, and then knocked several more times for good measure. There was a small _thud_ from inside. If Keith wasn't so irritated, he might've been concerned.

He heard shuffling indoors, and that's when he realized, with no small amount of panic that this was the first time he'd ever actually knocked on Lance's door.

Not the best circumstances for a first proper conversation, but it was too late now.

The door swung open, and Keith didn't hold back. “What the _hell_ , Lance? I told you to stop twice! Why were you being so goddamn loud?”

He paused for breath, about to go off again, when he abruptly registered what he was looking at.

Lance stood in front of him, but it was a Lance he'd never seen before. Granted, Keith didn't know him well by any means, but he was positive that the regular Lance would be leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, maybe a couple finger-guns. Not this.

This Lance had wrapped himself in a blanket, and was still shivering slightly. His skin was much paler than usual, with flushed cheeks and sweat on his brow. He sniffled.

“Um.”

“'M sorry, Keith. Was asleep,” Lance rubbed at his eyes and blinked, as if trying to get his vision to focus. “What'd you want again?”

Keith felt like an absolute idiot. And kind of an asshole.

Lance was sick, and had been trying to sleep. He'd probably been making those _noises_ because he was in pain. Keith resisted the urge to curse out loud.

“Uh, I just wanted to... check on you?” It was a weak lie, but Lance was too out of it to catch on.

“S'nice of you, but 'm fine. Promise,” Lance told him, attempting a smile. “Was just takin' a nap. I don't feel too good.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Keith agreed, giving him another once over.

“Hunk made me stay home,” Lance explained. “Says I can't go to work like this. Guess I'll just get back to my nap.”

He turned around to go back to his bedroom, not even bothering to close the door. Keith hesitated for a moment before crossing the threshold, grabbing Lance's arm.

“You sure you're okay to be here by yourself?” Keith asked, looking around uncertainly. “Have you eaten anything? Taken medicine?”

Lance waved him off. “Hunk'll be back with food and stuff later. He had a real important thing to do at work. 'S not really that bad, I can just wait.”

“I don't know,” Keith bit his lip. "I have a bad feeling about leaving you by yourself. You seem really sick.”

“'M _fine_ ," Lance insisted, shaking his arm out of Keith's grip. He only made it a few steps, however, before collapsing to the ground in a pile of blankets. “Meant to do that,” he added weakly.

“Yeah, okay, we're definitely checking your temperature,” Keith decided, rooting through the medical cabinet.

“I don't need it.”

Keith glanced back at him. “I respectfully disagree.”

Lance snorted, which quickly turned into a series of coughs. When the fit subsided, he cleared his throat and muttered, “When do you ever do anything respectfully, Keith?”

Keith couldn't help it, he laughed a little at that. But it didn't last long, what with his growing frustration at not being able to find what he was looking for.

“Where the hell is your thermometer?” he demanded. “Do you idiots not even _own_ one?”

“Thermometer? I think Hunk used it earlier? 'S probably in my room,” Lance told him, then proceeded to pull a box of tissues out of the endless blankets and blow his nose.

Keith was momentarily speechless. “And you didn't think to tell me this _before_?”

“You didn't ask.”

Keith shook his head, floored. “Guess it's good to know that when you're sick you're still you,” he mumbled as he retrieved the thermometer from Lance's nightstand. “Infuriating.”

If Keith wasn't already concerned, the reading on the thermometer certainly did the trick.

“One hundred four,” Keith read off, trying to keep his voice free of panic. “Point _three_.”

Lance blinked up at him wearily. “'S... 's that bad?”

“ _Is that_ — yes of course it's bad, you dumbass! This is way too high! We've got to get you to a hospital.”

“Nooo,” Lance whined, even as Keith helped him stand up, blankets and all. “Why can't I stay here? I wanna _sleep_.”

“You can sleep when we get there,” Keith promised. “But I definitely do not trust myself to be responsible for you with a fever like that. We're going to the hospital, and you're going to like it.”

Lance sighed dramatically. “So pushy. Think I like Hunk better.”

“Yeah, me too,” Keith agreed. “Come on, I'll drive. Obviously. I doubt you could even open a car door on your own.”

“Hmmm,” Lance hummed as they came into view of Keith's car. “You should come to my apartment more often.”

Keith nearly dropped his car keys. “I'm... I'm sorry, what?”

“When 'm better,” Lance continued, as if Keith hadn't spoken. “And you won't have to drive me to the hospital this time. Promise. I can drive and we can get... coffee. Or... or something.”

Keith glanced over at him. “Are you... you're asking me out? While you have a fever over one hundred and four degrees? On the way to the hospital?”

Lance shrugged. “Good a time as any.” Immediately after saying this, he passed out.

* * *

Lance woke up in the hospital. He still didn't feel absolutely wonderful, but both his migraine and stuffed nose seemed to have lost their intensity. Pretty great, in comparison.

Hunk was there waiting for him, of course, with the promised soup and apologies to spare for not staying with him from the beginning, saying they'd have to send Keith a gift basket sometime.

“Where is Keith, anyway?” Lance asked, eyes surveying the room. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed to not find him there when he woke up.

Hunk started. “Oh! I almost forgot! He left you this.”

Lance flipped over the object Hunk handed him, and raised an eyebrow. “A get well soon card? Doesn't exactly sound like Keith.”

Hunk raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, you're the one who has screaming matches with the guy through the wall! All I know is he told me to give it to you. Don't shoot the messenger.”

“Alright, alright,” Lance opened the card, unsure what to expect. The card was just one of those cheesy get well cards you could buy at the hospital, but it was what was inside that caught Lance's eye.

Written directly under the cheesy card message, in bright red ink, was a message.

_Maybe next time you're pissing me off, I can call you instead of screaming through the wall. Or you could call me._

_P.S. I like black coffee_.

This was followed by a phone number.

The smile on Lance's face was immediate. Illnesses be damned. “Black coffee? Who does he think he is?”

Hunk looked up from the book he was reading. “What did you say Lance?”

Lance just shook his head, still grinning. “Nothing. Hey, Hunk, could you pass me my phone?”


End file.
